


A Holiday Special

by livecement



Series: sunshine and roses [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Anal Sex, Face-Fucking, Lights Camera Action, M/M, Sex Tape, Smut, happy holidays
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-19 11:21:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13122681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/livecement/pseuds/livecement
Summary: [Starring, Akaashi Keiji and Bokuto Koutarou]Akaashi and Bokuto spend Christmas Day filming a sex tape.





	A Holiday Special

**Author's Note:**

> this is a sequel to now, keiji, the first fic in this series and the one that i wrote for akaashi's birthday last year. you don't need to read it to enjoy this fic, but it helps.
> 
> please enjoy!

Excited. That’s what Keiji was. It had taken him a while to put a word to it, but excited definitely sufficed. Ever since Koutarou had agreed to it, filming their sex tape was all that Keiji could think about. He'd been told many times before that he had an obsessive personality, something he'd always vehemently denied, and now, with his husband looking at him like he was out of his mind—well, he could reflect on it later.

"Keiji. No."

"Why not?"

"We are not stealing lights from your _work_ to use for our _sex tape._ "

"It's not stealing when I'm the one in charge of the inventory. No one will even know that they are missing."

"Why do you even want them?"

" _Need,_ " Keiji corrected, "I _need_ them so that we don't look flat and washed out on camera." He shifted his weight to one foot, cocking out a hip and crossing his arms. "And perhaps you hadn't thought of this, but they will also solve the problem of needing to actually be able to see what's happening on camera."

"Gee, 'Kaash." Koutarou made a show of rolling his eyes, crossing his arms as well. "I never thought'a that. I figured maybe when we watched it we'd just stare at a dark screen and get off on the slappin' noises."

"Your sarcasm is unnecessary, Koutarou."

"Can't you just set some of our lamps up strategically?" He gestured around their living room. "We got a lot of lamps, Keiji. My mom made sure'a that"

"Please don't mention your mother during a conversation about how we're going to light our sex tape."

"I'll mention my mother whenever I want to!"

Hardly amused, Keiji turned on his heel and started toward the front door.

"Hey! Where are you going?!" Koutarou shouted after him.

"I'm going to the studio right now to get some lights," he called over his shoulder, rounding the hallway corner to enter the front corridor. “I'm going to show you why we _need_ them."

"Oh my God, baby."

"You'll see, Koutarou." Keiji slipped on his shoes and jacket before opening the door. He turned to look at Koutarou. He was leaning against the entryway looking unimpressed. "You'll see."

And with that he left, closing the door behind him resolutely.

 

With the curtains drawn to block out most of the light coming into the bedroom, Keiji turned on the single softbox lamp he'd managed to grab. He hadn't been able to take two others because of lack of time and hands, so he'd just grabbed a reflector instead. It didn't matter, it would be sufficient in getting his point across.

He adjusted the intensity of the lamp to a nice soft glow. Once he raised it to the appropriate height, he went over to where his camera was set up on a tripod, pointed to shoot their bed from the end. Koutarou was leaning against their dresser sulking, a sure sign that he was already starting to see Keiji's point.

"Koutarou, darling, would you do me the favour of taking a seat on the bed."

His husband glowered at him and then shuffled over to the bed, muttering something along the lines of _don't 'darling' me._ He dropped down heavily onto the side of the bed, leaning back to rest on his hands. The light fell over him nicely, and Keiji couldn't help but take a moment to admire his handsome profile.

Yes, they were going to look exceptional on camera.

"You know," Keiji leered over the top of the lens, "the effect would be greater if perhaps you shed some clothing."

Koutarou regarded Keiji for a moment, puffing out his cheeks and narrowing his eyes. Without taking his gaze off Keiji, he sat up and ripped off his shirt, tossing it to the side. He leaned back onto his hands again then looked away, huffing.

"That's all you're getting," he grumbled.

_That's all I need_ , Keiji thought.

With Koutarou looking cool and gorgeous through the camera lens, the light creating soft shadows that accentuated his muscular build perfectly, Keiji pressed the record button. He quickly set up the reflector just to fill in some of the deeper shadows, then stepped into frame, standing in front of Koutarou. In one smooth motion he slipped off his own shirt and let it drop to the floor. Koutarou watched him curiously. Then Keiji promptly straddled his him, eliciting a surprised hum. Keiji grabbed Koutarou's face with both hands and brought their mouths together roughly, kissing him hard and deep. Koutarou hesitated for only a moment before he was wrapping his arms around Keiji and kissing him back with just as much fervor. A moan slipped from Keiji, the knowledge that the camera was recording them getting him hot, even if it was just a practice shot being taken to prove a point.

Continuing to kiss Koutarou senseless, Keiji pushed forward so that he fell back onto the bed. He slipped his tongue into Koutarou’s mouth while rolling his hips down, earning a groan. When he felt Koutarou start to grow hard, he pulled back from the kiss and crawled off of him. This was followed by a sound of protest from Koutarou, but Keiji ignored him and went to check the camera, feeling a small sense of revenge.   

He stopped the recording and then went into preview mode, watching half of the clip before rewinding it to the beginning.

"Come here, Koutarou," he said, not taking his eyes off of the small screen.

He heard some shuffling and then Koutarou was standing close beside him. Keiji made sure his eyes were on the screen then pressed play. The clip started and they both watched the scene play out in front of them.

"You look so good," Keiji murmured, brushing his fingers down Koutarou's bicep.

Koutarou stood up a little straighter, but said nothing, eyes trained on the video. When Keiji stepped into frame and took off his shirt that's when Koutarou sucked in a breath. Keiji already knew that he would look good, but even still, the reaction was validating.

As the scene went on, Keiji continued to caress Koutarou's arm, then soon moved to run his hand up and down his back.

"Look at us," he whispered close to Koutarou's ear.

“I am,” Koutarou replied, voice rough.

"Would you really be satisfied with capturing—" strategic pause, on screen Keiji started rolling his hips—"that," he teased his nails down Koutarou's skin, "in poor lighting?"

A long exhale, then, "Fuck, no."

Victory never grew tiring for Keiji.

He turned off the camera and rounded on Koutarou.

"Then you'll agree to a three-point lighting system."

"No!" Koutarou's eyes grew wide. "Just like this." He gestured to the current setup. "Only one light."

Keiji pursed his lips. "A three-point lighting system would optimize—"

"It's too much, Keiji!" Koutarou pleaded.

Keiji was never one to back down easily, but Koutarou was obviously getting overwhelmed, so he forced himself to take a breath and give in—

"Two lights."

—just a little.

 

 

"So, like, I don't wanna sound like some insecure uber-masculine manly dude, 'cause you know that ain't me, but in this video, which one of us is gonna top?"

Keiji closed the dishwasher, pressed start, then turned to where Koutarou was leaning against the counter on the other side of the kitchen.

"You are," he stated simply.

"Oh?"

Keiji leaned against the counter on his side of the room, mirroring Koutarou.

"Yes," he held eye contact as he spoke, "I would very much like to watch myself get fucked on camera."

A dumb look washed over Koutarou's face; lips parting slightly, his eyes glazing over. It was exactly the reaction Keiji was hoping for. He allowed himself a small smirk.

After a few moments, when Koutarou's brain reset itself, he cleared his throat and said, "Uh, that- that's real hot."

"Mh," Keiji crossed his arms casually. "Since we're on the subject, perhaps we should discuss what positions we'll be performing."

Koutarou looked confused. "Perrr... forming..?"

"Yes, we are going to be having sex in front of cameras to make a film that we will be watching in the future. Therefore we are performing."

"Well sure, but sayin' it that way makes it sound a lot more complicated than it is." Koutarou scratched the back of his head. "I mean, don't we just turn on the camera, hop on the bed, and fuck?" he added, and then he made a face like something had just dawned on him; "Did you say 'cameras'? Like, more than one?"

"We'll want multiple angles to give the film variety," Keiji explained the obvious, "And we won’t just be fucking. We need to have a script, or things will turn out looking sloppy."

"Hnngg, that's no fun AkaaAAAshiii!" Koutarou wailed, "You're making this like work!"

Well, if Keiji was going to make porn, he was going to do it properly. He wasn’t out to make some dark, shaky amateur nonsense, where all they did was fuck doggy-style for ten minutes—maybe throw in some cock-sucking at some point; he was a professional who had the resources and talent to do far better than that. And he told Koutarou such.

"Fine, you're right," Koutarou finally relented after Keiji's speech, "but if I forget what to do and mess up, you can't get mad me."

"I will not get angry with you," Keiji promised.

Koutarou relaxed a little. "Good."

"I can simply edit out any mistakes you make."

"That's- great, 'Kaash," Koutarou sighed, turning his head away. At first Keiji thought that he was going to start sulking, but then he looked sidelong at Keiji, grinning. "So, why don't ya tell me about this script, then?"

"I do have some ideas in mind," Keiji stated, looking down to toy with his fingers.

"I know you better than that, baby." Keiji peeked up to see Koutarou still grinning. "You don't gotta pretend like you don't already have the entire thing planned out in detail inside your head."  

"I'll tell you, but you have to come here," he said, extending his hand towards Koutarou.

Koutarou bit his lip and looked at Keiji's hand before crossing the kitchen to take it. Keiji pulled him close, placing his other hand on Koutarou's hip. He brought his lips to Koutarou's ear.

"First," he murmured, keeping his voice low; just the sound of it sent a shiver through Koutarou's body that Keiji could feel.

He proceeded to describe exactly what he had in mind, letting his lips brush the shell of Koutarou's ear. The words spilled easily from his mouth, rich and sultry. He paid close attention to Koutarou's every reaction.

As he spoke, he ran his hands over Koutarou's body; he caressed an arm with slender fingers, slowly dragged his hand down a strong back, and slotted his thigh between two powerful legs. With every new act Keiji described, and every new touch, Koutarou would gasp and moan and groan.

It wasn't long before their bodies were pressed impossibly close, holding onto each other tightly as Keiji continued to detail every filthy thing he wanted Koutarou to do to him. Once they started grinding themselves together, Keiji lost his cool and struggled to get his words out coherently, his syllables slipping into soft moans. He had one hand tangled into the hair at the back of Koutarou's head, and the other was gripping uselessly at the material of his shirt.

"Fuck, baby," Koutarou groaned once Keiji was no longer able to continue, "That's so hot. You're so. fucking. hot."

Then Koutarou's tongue and teeth were on Keiji’s neck, obliterating any small chance of Keiji regaining his ability to speak. As Koutarou continued to ravage Keiji's neck, he trailed his hands down to Keiji's hips, dipping his fingers into the waistband of his sweatpants.

"I want—"he nipped at an earlobe—"your cock—"a hard grind—"in my mouth," he growled, pulling the pants down over Keiji's ass.

Even if Keiji could speak, there was no way he could say no to that, so he only whined from the back of his throat.

Koutarou sank to his knees, Keiji's fingers remaining wound into his hair, and dragged Keiji's sweatpants down to free his cock. Without any teasing licks, or even a comment on Keiji's lack of underwear, Koutarou immediately took Keiji's cock into his wet, warm mouth. Keiji nearly choked on the sound that tore out of his throat, having to grip the counter behind him with his free hand to keep from buckling.

He very quickly lost himself. The kitchen filled with panting and moaning and the slick sounds of sex. It wasn't long before he was coming hard into Koutarou's mouth, eyes squeezing shut in pleasure.

After a few moments he was able to open his eyes, something he was grateful for when he took in the sight of his husband; he looked positively indecent with Keiji's cum dripping down his chin, a puddle of his own on the tiled floor where he'd jerked himself off, and his hair a mess from being tugged and pulled by desperate fingers.

In that moment, Keiji wished he had a camera.

 

 

It was finally December 25th. Keiji was certain he'd never been more desperate for a day to arrive in his life. He'd never even felt this much anticipation for his birthday as a child, which was perhaps a disturbing comparison, but even so it was an accurate one.

Even though Keiji wanted to jump right out of bed and get to filming, he exercised his self-restraint and forced himself to wait.

They spent the morning lazing away in bed, cuddling and fooling around a little until their hunger forced them to leave it. After eating their food and drinking their tea, Koutarou eagerly got out all of the stuff needed to teach Keiji how to make his favourite jelly cakes. It was an easy recipe, something Koutarou felt the need to mention every time Keiji made a mistake, so they took the time to make several different flavours.

When they finished making them Koutarou insisted that they cut them into cute shapes and arrange them nicely onto a plate before they ate them. Once they finally got that over with, they brought the plate out into the living room and put on a movie to watch. Keiji, too focused on getting his hands on the delicious looking cakes, made the mistake of agreeing to whatever it was Koutarou had suggested; finding himself watching a film that his husband had been harassing him about for ages and he had always staunchly refused to watch because it sounded ridiculous.

But of course he ended up loving it.

After dinner, a shower, and another movie, they finally decided that it was time to get to the main event of their Christmas date of sorts. Keiji buzzed with anticipation as he set up the camera equipment and lights. As they had agreed, there were two softbox lights and one reflector; all set up to light the bed and create a soft, romantic atmosphere. As for the cameras, Keiji set one up at the bottom left corner of the bed, lowering the tripod so that the camera would capture them from a low angle. The second camera was set to capture the entire bed from the left side using a medium shot. On both cameras he attached a high-quality microphone. Then he brought out his hand-held camcorder and set it down on the bedside table.

The camcorder was one of the things he was most excited about. It would add a more intimate dynamic to the film—a touch of a homemade feeling to serve as a reminder that this was something they made together. Not to mention that it offered ample opportunity for some creative obscenity.

Something Keiji excelled in.

Koutarou had kept his distance while Keiji prepared their bedroom, which had been fine by Keiji because he would have only gotten in his way. But now that everything was ready for filming, his presence was somewhat necessary.

He found Koutarou pacing the living room fretfully. His teeth worried at his bottom lip and his eyes had a frantic look to them. Keiji cleared his throat and Koutarou jumped.

"Ah, Keiji," he chuckled nervously, "You scared me."

Keiji only nodded towards the bedroom. "Everything's ready."

"O-Okay."

He watched as Koutarou plodded across the living room with his eyes downcast and his hands pulling at his t-shirt. When he got close enough, Keiji untangled one of Koutarou's hands from his shirt and held it, ignoring how sweaty it was, and led him to their bedroom. When they entered the room he closed the door behind them and went to stand in front of their dresser to give Koutarou a moment to take it all in.

After quite a few seconds of quiet, wide-eyed staring, Koutarou finally turned to Keiji.

"It's- wow," He gave a nervous laugh and rubbed the back of his neck. "It's a lot."

Keiji shrugged. "The end result will be worth it."

With a tight smile that didn't reach his eyes Koutarou nodded his head and began tugging on the hem of his shirt again.

"Koutarou," Keiji said, and his husband looked over at him, keeping eye contact for only a second before shifting his gaze over Keiji's shoulder, "what's wrong?"

"Hm? What? Nothing," he responded all in a rush, "Nothin's wrong."

"That was very well executed and believable," Keiji said as he stepped over to him. "What is it?"

When he reached him he smoothed his hand down Koutarou's side then slipped his arm around his waist, holding him close.

"I'm fine, 'Kaash," he insisted, remaining stiff in Keiji's hold.

He was being stubborn, but Keiji could combat that easily.

He hooked his other arm around Koutarou's shoulder, tilting his head so he could brush his lips against Koutarou's neck as he murmured, "Sunshine, tell me."

Koutarou whined, dropping his head to Keiji's shoulder. "That's not fair."

The corner of Keiji's mouth twitched into a brief smile before he pulled back, placing a hand on Koutarou's cheek to get a look at his face. He was gnawing on his lip, naturally, so Keiji slipped a thumb down to pull it out from his teeth, caressed it tenderly, then leaned in to give him a soft kiss.

He pulled back just enough to whisper, "Tell me."

Koutarou brushed their noses together, keeping his eyes closed, breathing out a sigh before he said, "I'm nervous."

That much was obvious, but instead of saying so, Keiji rubbed Koutarou's back encouragingly and prompted him further, "About?"

"This," Koutarou huffed, "filming this."

"Mh," Keiji hummed and dipped his head back down to press hot, sweet kisses to Koutarou's neck, pulling him in even closer, "don't be."

He felt Koutarou start to relax under the attention, and he thought that they could start warming each other up, but a few moments later Koutarou suddenly jolted and went ramrod straight in Keiji’s arms.

"Fuck, no Keiji!"

And then Keiji found himself being pushed away.

"This," Koutarou wailed, brandishing his arm wildly at the equipment, "all of this," he took a shallow breath, "is too much! I can't do it!"

"Yes you can." Keiji reached out and tried to soothe him, but when he got close Koutarou jerked away.

"No," Koutarou shook his head frantically, "I can't."

"Koutarou, you're just over-thinking it."

At that Koutarou buried his face into his hands and made a drawn-out, exasperated sound straight into his palms. He stayed like that for six whole seconds while Keiji waited patiently, ready to settle whatever problem it was that Koutarou was having. However, when Koutarou lifted his face, he didn't look angry. Instead he looked at Keiji with a kind of dejection that made Keiji stop short.

"Kou,—"

" _You_ insist on havin' all of these cameras and lights and shit pointed at us while we have—" he paused and waved his hand as if looking for a word—" _sex_ that you've made me memorize a script for, and you say that I'm over-thinkin' it?"

Keiji opened his mouth to argue the necessity of all of those things, but as he watched Koutarou's face start to fall further into despair, he balked. What came out instead was a useless, "I just want it to turn out well."

"I know you do," Koutarou groaned as he dragged his hands down his face, "Trust me, I know that, baby. That's why there's so much pressure!" He looked at Keiji with pleading eyes. "You've been looking forward to this so much! I've been able to tell 'cause you're acting exactly like Ennoshita when he’s directing!"

Oh. Oh, no.

"And I know you only get this controlling when you're _really_ excited, so I didn't put up much of a fight 'cause I like knowin' that you're excited." Koutarou started pacing and avoiding looking at Keiji again. "But you went kinda overboard and now I'm afraid that I'm gonna screw somethin' up and ruin it for you! I don't wanna ruin it! I don't want you bein' upset with me!"

If Keiji'd really been acting like that then he had some apologizing to do. Koutarou was still rambling and pacing so Keiji tried to get into his line of sight.

"Koutarou," he said, firm. When Koutarou stopped and snapped his panicked eyes up at him, Keiji softened and held his hands out. "May I touch you?"

Looking down at Keiji's hands, Koutarou nodded, so Keiji took a step forward to hug him. He rested his head on Koutarou's shoulder, tucking his face into his neck to murmur, "I'm sorry, sunshine."

He felt Koutarou's arms wrap around him.

"I see that I’ve been overzealous about this whole thing, and I've pushed for what I wanted too hard while neglecting your feelings." He pulled back and placed a hand on his husband's cheek. "I apologize for that."

Koutarou leaned into the touch and brought up his own hand to cover Keiji's. "Thank you."

Keiji leaned in and pecked him on the lips. "How about we sit down and discuss what you're most nervous about."

Koutarou nodded his head with a relieved sigh.

They sat together on the side of the bed. Keiji took one of Koutarou's hands and started playing with his fingers.         

"Um," Koutarou started, watching what Keiji was doing as he spoke, "I guess all of the cameras and lights are kinda givin' me stage fright. I don't-" he swallowed- "want to _p-perform_ badly for you."

The clenching in Keiji's chest was a decidedly bad feeling. He slipped his fingers between Koutarou's and squeezed his hand.

"I know I've made a fuss about planning positions, but that was mostly a matter of organization. I've never once been concerned about whether you would perform well. And, um, calling it performing was a little over the top on my part, once again. We are not porn stars."

"No, but I have a feeling you wish you were."

Keiji huffed and opened his mouth to argue, but then he heard Koutarou snickering. He looked up at him and was so relieved to see him more relaxed that he couldn't help but breathe out a laugh of his own. He shook his head and groaned, leaning forward to rest his forehead against Koutarou's.

"Listen, I do want this to turn out well, but more importantly I want us to both enjoy it. So, if it will help you feel more comfortable, you are free to throw me on this bed right now and just have your way with me. As long as there's a camera recording it, I'm happy."

Koutarou pulled back to look at Keiji properly and brought up a hand to tuck a piece of Keiji's hair back. "Well, I liked all the stuff that you planned." He cleared his throat and looked to the side. "A lot." Then his eyes scanned the equipment around them. "It's just..."

"The cameras."

"Yeah."

"What if," Keiji proposed, running a hand up and down Koutarou's arm, "we started out with just the handheld camera? Then, if you start to feel more comfortable, we can turn the other cameras on by remote."

He watched Koutarou bite his lip to think. After a moment he nodded his head and smiled.

"I think I can do that."

"And we can stop at any time." Keiji looked at him seriously.

Bokuto rolled his eyes. "That always applies, Keiji."

"Yes, but I'm trying to remove as much pressure as possible."

"Alright."

"Okay."

They sat there looking at each other for a moment until Koutarou broke the silence with an elongated, "So..."

"So, we should probably start warming up to set the mood."

"Okay, so like just start makin' out right now?"

Keiji closed his eyes. "That would be one way, yes."

"Well, you come up with something better!"

That's when Keiji opened his eyes and smirked.

"Alright," he said, standing up from the bed and turning to face Koutarou, "but I will need your help with something."

"Is it getting you out of those clothes?" Koutarou waggled his eyebrows.

"No, I think I can manage that," Keiji replied and swiftly removed his shirt.

"Aw, not gonna give me a strip tease?"

"Another time, perhaps."

He unzipped his jeans and started sliding them down, trying to ignore the fact that he was already, and unsurprisingly, half-hard.

Koutarou, however, felt no need for such courtesy.

"Wow, Keiji," he said, staring blatantly, "You really _are_ excited for this."

"Shut up," Keiji grumbled, kicking his pants to the side.

Finally he removed his trunks and threw them in the direction of the rest of his clothes. Koutarou stood up from the bed and started toward Keiji.

"So, what'd'ya need my help with?"

He reached out for Keiji, but Keiji stopped him with a hand on his chest.

"Come on, Keiji," he whined, "You're all naked now and I wanna touch you."

"In a moment," Keiji stepped back. "But first I thought you wouldn't mind—" he turned around, bent forward to lean his arms on the dresser, and looked over his shoulder—"removing this for me."

He stayed like that, shamelessly exposing his ass, and waited for a response.

"Fuck," was the first word that Koutarou managed.

And then he was right behind Keiji, one hand on his hip, and the other brushing over the plug that was currently residing in Keiji's asshole.

"When did you even put this in, baby?" His voice was husky.

"In the middle of our second movie," Keiji answered, straightening up to rest on his hands instead.

"Huh," Koutarou mused, "I thought you were doin' somethin' else."

"No need to explain further."

"Dammit, Keiji, " Koutarou groaned, wrapping his arm around Keiji's torso and pressing his face into the back of Keiji's neck. Shivers ran up Keiji's spine when he started tracing his finger around the plug. "You're always so hot."

"Is that – _ah_ – a problem?"

"No." Koutarou started applying more pressure as he circled Keiji's rim. "It's just that I can't keep up with you."

"You keep up just fine, believe me," Keiji panted in response.

He felt Koutarou smile against his neck before he started to place warm kisses to it. It made Keiji's toes curl and his knees go weak. And then finally he felt Koutarou take hold of the plug and start pulling it out, only to stop part way and press it back in, rocking it against Keiji's prostate.

Keiji swore while his cock started to swell even more.

Koutarou continued to rock the plug and nibble at Keiji's neck, reducing him to a useless panting mess, until Keiji found the wherewithal to reach back and twist a hand into Koutarou's hair, pulling him off of his neck.

"Koutarou, I asked you to take it out." There was more pressure on his prostate and he had to take a breath. "Not fuck me with it."

"Sorry," Koutarou said, not sounding sorry at all, "I was just warmin' ya up and all."

He slipped the plug out, leaving Keiji feeling empty.

Keiji stood up straight and glanced down between them.

"I see that you don't need me to do the same for you."

"Nope." Koutarou put his hands on his hips and stood proud, showing off the tent in his sweatpants. "Just seein' you like this gets me hot enough, Keiji."

Fighting a smile, Keiji reached out and snapped the waistband of Koutarou's pants.

"Get undressed then." He turned back to the dresser to grab the garment he had laid there earlier. He passed it to Koutarou. "And then put these on."

"Why am I putting on boxer briefs?"

"Those are trunks, Koutarou."

"Right, ‘longer than briefs but shorter than boxer briefs,’" he recited what Keiji had told him a hundred times, "Whatever they are, why am I putting them on?"

Keiji regarded him, holding onto his own pair of underwear. "I thought it would be easier to get used to the cameras if we start out a little less exposed."

"So smart, Keiji!" Koutarou held the underwear up and grinned."Picked your favourite, huh?"

It was true. The trunks were a deep plum with a black elastic waistband, and Keiji adored Koutarou in them. The colour was gorgeous against his pale skin, and the way they hugged his ass made it look absolutely edible.

"I just picked what I thought would look good on camera," he said.

"Whatever you say, baby," Koutarou replied, starting to take off his clothes.

While he did that, Keiji set his underwear back down and went about lubing up his ass more before putting them on. He was already nicely stretched from the plug so he was able to insert three lubed fingers easily. Koutarou watched him hungrily, continuing to undress. Keiji held his gaze as he worked his fingers inside himself.

"You should have let me do that," Koutarou's voice was gruff when he spoke.

With an exhale, Keiji removed his fingers and wiped them down on a towel. "We would never get around to filming if I had."

Koutarou laughed as he slid up his trunks and tucked himself in. "True!"

Keiji allowed himself only a moment to admire how the garment shaped his husband's thighs before he tore his eyes away and focused on getting into his own underwear. He picked them up from the dresser and started to put them on.

"Oh! You picked my favourite too!"

Indeed, Keiji had chosen the pair of low-cut electric blue briefs that Koutarou always loved him in. They had a black and white striped elastic waistband and were trimmed in black everywhere else. They were small and tight and left nothing to the imagination, which was probably why Koutarou was looking at Keiji like he was about to devour him.

Keiji let the waistband snap into place low on his hips and raised an eyebrow.

"Like what you see?" he asked.

"Yeah," Koutarou immediately replied.

A smirk played on Keiji's lips as he closed the distance between them. Koutarou's hands were on him in a second; running hot down his back and grabbing at his ass greedily. Keiji gripped the back of Koutarou's neck with one hand and pulled him into a searing kiss. They stood there clutching each other and kissing hungrily until Keiji forced himself to pull back.

They were both panting. Keiji licked his lips before asking, "Are you ready?"

Koutarou swallowed, looking at Keiji with hooded eyes, and breathed, "Yeah."

Keiji pulled out of the embrace and turned Koutarou towards the bed. He pushed him forward and smacked him on the ass. "Go lounge on the bed then."

Koutarou _tsk_ ed as he sauntered away. "Bossy!"

"I _am_ the director," Keiji joked, going to pick up the camcorder.

"Self-appointed director," Koutarou shot back as he crawled onto the bed.

"I would have asked Chikara-san," Keiji said as he came around to the end of the bed, "but he has a date tonight."

He got a _look_ from Koutarou as he rested back on his elbows with his legs casually sprawled out in front of him.

A corner of Keiji's mouth turned up and he turned on the camera, looking at Koutarou on the screen. Koutarou gestured to himself with his hand, asking, "Is this lounge-y enough for you, oh Director-sama?"

"You're perfect," was all Keiji could say.

The flush that spread over Koutarou's cheeks was apparent even on the tiny screen. Keiji let the camera down and looked at him squarely.

"Are you ready for me to hit record?"

Koutarou breathed in, did some sort of dance with his legs, then settled on the outgoing breath. After that he smiled up at Keiji and chirped, "Yep!"

"Alright." Keiji brought the camera back up and hit record. "Action."

"I knew you were going to say that," Koutarou crooned, "Always so professional, Keiji."

"Don't be smart or I'll fire you," Keiji replied. He got up onto the end of the bed and rested there on his knees.

Koutarou shook his head at the camera. "Then you'd have to just get yourself off in front of the camera."

Keiji moved closer so that he was between Koutarou's calves. He pointed the camera at his hand as he ran it up Koutarou's thigh. "That wouldn't be as fun, I suppose."

Koutarou wiggled a little under his touch.

"You look so good, Koutarou," Keiji breathed as he continued to caress his thigh.

Keiji tilted the camera up to capture the shy smile Koutarou gave when he said, "Yeah?"

"Mhhm," Keiji hummed, inching closer again. He ran a hand down Koutarou's stomach, panning the camera down to follow it. He teased a finger under the waistband of Koutarou's underwear. "Especially in these."

He glanced up to see Koutarou watching his hand intently, then he slipped his finger out from the waistband to trace it down the outline of Koutarou's erection, making sure the camera was focused on what he was doing. Koutarou's stomach muscles jumped, so Keiji flattened out his hand and palmed him fully.

"You're so hard," he purred.

"Of course I am." Koutarou jerked his chin at Keiji. "Have you seen yourself?"

Keiji bit the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling. He got one last good shot of the outline of Koutarou's cock before crawling forward to straddle him.

"Why don't you show me?" He held the camera out invitingly.

A grin spread across Koutarou's face as he took the camera from Keiji, leaning back to lay his head on the pillows. He pointed the camera up, biting his lip with a blush.

"What?" Keiji asked.

"You look real great like this," Koutarou responded honestly.

Keiji cast his eyes away and ducked his head to the side to try and hide a small smile. He felt a hand run up his thigh and then squeeze.

"No, don't hide your face," Koutarou said as soft as Keiji had ever heard him. "You're perfect when you smile."

Immediately, Keiji felt his neck and ears start to burn. He had to take a moment to breathe before he tilted his head just slightly, looking at the camera through his eyelashes. It was the best Koutarou was going to get out of him.

"Shit," Koutarou breathed.

Apparently it was enough.

The hand on his thigh squeezed again, and then a thumb was rubbing circles into the inside. It made his muscles twitch with anticipation. He watched Koutarou pan the camera down his body and land on the area Koutarou's hand was starting to creep to. Keiji's skin tingled knowing that the camera was now pointing at the very obvious bulge in his underwear.

"Gotta make sure we get a good shot of this," Koutarou said as he thumbed over Keiji's erection.

Keiji snorted.

"Don't laugh, it's important." Koutarou was watching the camera screen very seriously.

Keiji hummed and gave a small roll of his hips, making Koutarou suck in a breath. Keiji continued.

"Fuck, baby," Koutarou whispered, pressing his hips up to meet Keiji's movements. He removed his hand from Keiji's clothed cock and started feeling up Keiji's stomach. His hand was warm and rough against Keiji's skin; familiar and oh so capable.

After revelling in that feeling a moment, Keiji took Koutarou's hand and brought it to his lips, kissing his wrist and then his palm. He made sure the camera was pointing at his face before he started to nip and nibble at his fingers, holding eye contact as he did so. Before that could get tedious, Keiji started kissing down Koutarou's arm, occasionally nipping at the skin.

That's when Koutarou abruptly sat up and placed the camera down on the bed. Keiji lifted up his head and was immediately taken into a kiss. Koutarou's lips moved against his urgently, and he'd moved a hand to the back of Keiji's head, fingers twining into his curls. Keiji framed Koutarou's face with his own hands as he kissed him back. After a few long moments, Koutarou pulled away and brushed his nose against Keiji's.

"I'm ready to turn the other cameras on now," he announced quietly.

Keiji stroked his cheek with a thumb. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah," he said, grinning.

Keiji placed a light kiss to his lips before leaning over towards the nightstand and stretching for the remote. Thanks to his long fingers, he managed to grab it. He pointed first to the camera at the bottom left—his right—corner of the bed, pressing the button to turn it on, and then did the same to the camera that would be capturing them from the side. Once that was done he tossed the remote away and turned back to face Koutarou.

He wrapped his arms around his lover's neck, and with a smirk he murmured:

"Action."

A blinding smile broke across Koutarou's face and he surged forward to capture Keiji's mouth once again. Keiji could feel the cameras on them, setting his pulse thrumming. With each press of Koutarou's lips and flick of his tongue, Keiji was getting hotter and hotter, until he was finally pressing Koutarou down into the bed.

From there the kissing got sloppy fast. It was difficult to focus on their lips when they were grinding against each other relentlessly, Koutarou’s hands kneading Keiji’s ass beneath his underwear. But in this instance, Keiji thought, sloppy was good. Perfectly wet and loud for the cameras to pick up. All thoughts, however, left Keiji’s mind when Koutarou slid a finger over his hole. He circled the rim once, twice, before pressing his finger inside, drawing a needy moan from Keiji’s lips.

The drag of Koutarou’s finger inside him, the pressure, was enough to have Keiji panting as he worked his lips over Koutarou’s neck. And fuck, Keiji could cum like this. But that would not make for a very good sex tape. They needed to move on to the next scene, so he pried himself away from Koutarou’s neck and sat up.

Beneath his hands, Koutarou’s chest was rising and falling rapidly. Caressing that beautifully sculpted chest, Keiji gazed down at Koutarou’s flushed face.

“Fuck my mouth,” he ordered.

Even though Koutarou knew that was coming next, his eyes still widened in surprise. But in the blink of an eye, that expression turned predatory. The finger that was in Keiji’s ass was carefully removed, and then suddenly he found himself flipped onto his back, Koutarou’s lips by his ear.

“Right away, Director-sama.”

If Koutarou wasn’t careful, Keiji was going to develop a new kink.

He stored that idea away for later and slid himself up the bed, once Koutarou gave him room to do so. He rested back on the pillows, propped up just enough to make fucking his face nice and easy. Koutarou followed after, crawling up Keiji’s body to straddle his chest. Wasting little time, they worked together to free Koutarou’s dick from his trunks.

Finally, _finally_ , Keiji was faced with Koutarou’s flushed, hard cock. He wanted it in his fucking mouth right that moment, but there was still one more thing:

He locked eyes with Koutarou, then subtly nodded over to the camcorder left forgotten on the bed.

Luckily, Koutarou got the hint right away and leaned over to grab it.

As soon as it was pointed down at his face, Keiji shuddered. That didn’t go unnoticed by Koutarou, who smirked, taking hold of his own erection.

“You ready for my cock, baby?”

(And he’d been worried he would be bad at this.)

Keiji didn’t reply, only stared into the camera and opened his mouth, tongue slipping out invitingly.  

He heard Koutarou swear under his breath before he guided his cock into Keiji’s wanting mouth.

Closing his eyes, Keiji focused on breathing through his nose and relaxing his jaw. He rolled his tongue along the underside of Koutarou’s shaft, squeezing his thigh to get him to start moving.

It started out slow, Koutarou rolling his hips in a leisurely rhythm.

“Oh fuck, you look incredible like this.”

Keiji hummed around the cock in his mouth, eyelids fluttering open.

“Shit,” Koutarou breathed, eyes fixated on the little viewscreen, “look at you.”

The adoration in his voice made Keiji’s toes curl. He grabbed onto Koutarou’s ass with both hands and encouraged him to move faster. Koutarou followed the wordless instructions easily. He also slid his free hand beneath Keiji’s head, taking a firm grip on his hair and tugging just enough to be pleasurable.

“You’re so pretty with your lips stretched around my cock,” he said, still watching the camera. “Especially with that blush on your cheeks.”

If Keiji hadn’t been aware of the heat in his cheeks before, he was now.

“You like being filmed like this, don’t you?”

Keiji whined, jaw starting to ache.

“I don’t even have to look to know how hard you are right now,” Koutarou continued.

Keiji’s hips jumped involuntarily.

“We just started and you already look wrecked, Keiji.”

He _felt_ wrecked. Having the camera focused on his used mouth was enough to make him dizzy, but then Koutarou had to go and do what he does best: talk. In that voice that rendered Keiji’s limbs useless. And added to all that stimulation, there was the weight of Koutarou’s thick cock on his tongue, the head dragging across the roof of his mouth as Koutarou fucked in and out.

It was a lot. Every nerve in Keiji’s body was ablaze. It was incredible, had Keiji raking his nails down Koutarou’s thick thighs in bliss. But it was also time to move on.

He patted Koutarou’s thigh a little reluctantly, signalling him to stop. Koutarou’s hips slowed gradually as he murmured some more praises, until he finally pulled out of Keiji’s mouth. His hand left the back of Keiji’s head to slide around and massage his jaw instead. Then Koutarou put the camera down on the bed and shifted back so that he could lean down and kiss Keiji firmly. His lips wandered down Keiji’s jaw until they stopped at his ear.

“I forget what’s next,” he whispered.

Keiji bit his lip fondly and whispered, “Get on your back.”

With a smile shining in his eyes, Koutarou quickly pecked Keiji’s lips then rolled off of him to lay on his back. Keiji took a moment to better gather himself then sat up. When he looked over at his husband, he found him already out of his underwear with his arms folded behind his head, eyebrows arched excitedly.

“I just remembered.”

Keiji’s first instinct was to admonish him for saying that out loud, but he caught himself before he could and rolled with it instead.

He shimmied out of his own briefs, then rose to his knees and smirked at Koutarou.

“Then sit tight.”

Then he swung his leg over Koutarou’s hips so that he was facing the camera at the end of the bed. Hands were immediately on his hips, running down over his ass and thighs reverently.

“This is a great view.”

Keiji peered back over his shoulder. “Is it?”

Golden eyes flickered up to meet his. He raised an eyebrow.

That’s when Koutarou mouthed an “oh!” and picked up the camcorder once again, biting his lip to try and hide that he was giggling to himself. He fixed the camera on Keiji’s ass and licked his lips. Then he tilted it up to capture Keiji’s face. Keiji gazed down, waiting. He wouldn’t say so, but he was desperate to get Koutarou’s cock in his ass. It must have shown on his face though because Koutarou’s mouth spread into a smug grin.

“Alright,” he said, voice coming out gravelly, and doing absolutely nothing to quell Keiji’s desperation. He tilted the camera back down. “Ride me.”

Keiji eagerly took hold of Koutarou’s cock, lining it up with his hole, and willed himself to relax as he slowly started to sink down. He heard Koutarou groan.

“So fucking good, baby.”

“Yeah?” Keiji’s voice came out rough as he shuddered. He felt so full, barely able to get air into his lungs as he took Koutarou all the way to the base.

“So, so good,” Koutarou repeated, lifting his hips every so slightly to grind into Keiji, “taking my cock so well.”

“Oh fuck,” Keiji moaned, bowing forward.

He braced his hands on Koutarou’s legs and forced himself to breathe. Once he felt ready, he straightened up again. His thighs strained with effort as he started to move, rocking himself back and forth on Koutarou’s cock, keeping it slow to put on a good show. He really hoped that Koutarou was still paying attention to where he was pointing the camera.

“... that is … so hot.”

There was Keiji’s answer.

It didn’t take long for Keiji to start building up a faster rhythm, thighs burning as he rocked and circled his hips. His head dropped back and his eyes fell closed, relishing the drag of Koutarou’s gorgeous cock. They were both breathing hard, lost in sensation.

When rough hands gripped his hips, Keiji knew that Koutarou had given up on the camcorder. But that was fine, Keiji wanted his full attention now.

“Come on, Kou,” he panted, glancing over his shoulder. “Are you just going to lay there, or are you going to fuck me?”    

There was something like a growl and then suddenly Koutarou was sitting up, wrapping his arms around Keiji’s waist. He nipped at the shell of Keiji’s ear before taking the lobe into his mouth and sucking gently. One of his hands trailed up Keiji’s stomach to toy with a nipple, while the other dropped down to take hold of Keiji’s cock, pulling a moan from his throat.

“If you want me to fuck you, Keiji,” Koutarou ground out, squeezing Keiji’s cock and rocking his hips as much as he was able, “then stop putting a camera in my hands and let me.”

If Keiji were in his right mind, he would have been embarrassed by the sound that left his mouth. But he wasn’t, so he would have to wait to be embarrassed when they watched the tape.

“I think it’s time you got on your hands and knees,” Koutarou whispered.  

That position wasn’t actually in the script, but Keiji was not about to say no. Instead he reached a hand back to tangle his fingers into Koutarou’s hair, straining to turn his head enough to capture Koutarou’s mouth in a kiss. It ended up being more tongue and spit than lips, given the awkward angle, but Koutarou returned it enthusiastically nonetheless.

They pulled apart, panting into each other’s mouths, and Keiji managed to croak, “Yes.”

That’s all it took to set things into motion. They shifted around, most of that shifting being Koutarou man-handing Keiji into position, until Keiji was on his hands and knees with Koutarou behind him. Keiji heard the muffled pop of a cap—he’d hidden a couple bottles of lube amongst the covers—and was thankful to Koutarou for thinking of that.

And then he was being expertly fucked from behind, hard.

The grip on his hips was bruising, aching in a way that nearly had Keiji drooling. Sounds of slapping skin and heavy breathing filled the room; lewd, perfect.Then suddenly Koutarou was slowing down and grinding his cock against Keiji’s prostate, making him cry out. Fingers threaded into his hair, pulling it just on the right side of painful. And then Koutarou’s hot breath was on his neck.

“Look at the camera, Keiji,” he spoke into Keiji’s ear. Keiji turned his attention to the camera set up at the bottom corner of the bed as Koutarou continued, “How does it feel to have them capture you this way? Filmin’ me fucking you like this. Recording all the desperate sounds you’re making.”

Keiji whined and swore in a strangled sort of way. His cock was heavy and hard, harder than he’s ever been, between his legs. And the gaze of the cameras was hot, burning into his skin. But the assault on his prostate was becoming too much and Koutarou continued to growl obscene things into his ear and Keiji felt his balls start to draw tight.

Fuck, he couldn’t come yet.

“Koutarou,” he groaned, reaching up to grab Koutarou’s arm. “St– I can’t–”

Koutarou slowed to a stop, letting go of Keiji’s hair. Keiji felt a hand run down his sweaty back soothingly as Koutarou carefully pulled out. He tried to take slow, deep breaths to get his bearings. And when he felt less like he was on fire, he got up on his knees and shuffled around to face Koutarou.

He was immediately taken into a searing kiss, strong arms wrapped around him. He rested his hands on Koutarou’s hips and returned the kiss.

“Sorry,” Koutarou mumbled into his lips. “Kinda got carried away.”

“It’s fine,” Keiji pulled back, placing a hand on Koutarou’s cheek, “I’m glad you’re enjoying this. Let’s just, slow things down a little.”

“Mm’k” Koutarou murmured as he took Keiji’s lips with his own again.

They made out like that for a little while until Keiji felt cooled off enough to start again. He pushed Koutarou down until he was sitting cross-legged on the bed then crawled into his lap, wrapping his legs around Koutarou’s torso. He reached under one of the folds in the covers and got some more lube. Then he took both of their cocks in his hand, stroking them back to full hardness as Koutarou held him steady, kissing and nibbling along his neck. When they were both ready, Koutarou layed Keiji down on his back and pressed inside again.

Things continued on slowly for a few minutes. They rolled their hips languidly, every kiss long and lingering. Every touch reverent. Until the heat between them started to build again, and the sense of urgency returned. Keiji had been keyed up all day, and now he just needed to come or he was going to die. His thighs shook as he wrapped his legs around Koutarou’s back and urged him to move even faster, rocking his own hips to match pace.

“Fu- ah, fuck. I’m getting close again,” he whispered into Koutarou’s ear, digging his fingernails into his back.

Koutarou squeezed his thigh. “M-me too.” He kissed along Keiji’s jaw until he reached his mouth, kissing him a couple times before asking breathlessly, “How do you want to finish this?”

They’d had a plan before, but since that had gone out the window—

“Just fucking rail me.”

Koutarou chuckled, deep and rumbling. “I can do that.”  

Immediately, Koutarou wrapped his arms around Keiji’s thighs and sat up on his knees. Keiji kept his legs wrapped around Koutarou’s waist, but it was Koutarou’s arms that were doing all the work of keeping his ass in the air. He held Keiji in place like that, and then, with a cheeky grin, started just fucking railing him.

And he did it with more finesse than any pornstar could dream of having.

Choked cries spilled from Keiji’s lips as Koutarou dragged his cock over his prostate relentlessly.

“That’s it, baby. Nice and loud for me.”

Keiji grabbed his throbbing cock and started pumping. Tears gathered in the corners of his eyes as he squeezed them shut, throwing his head back, all of his muscles drawn taut.

“Go ahead and come, Keiji,” Koutarou spoke between heavy breaths. “Come all over yourself in front of the cameras.”

And that was it, with a sob Keiji came hard, shaking as he splattered his chest and stomach. He heard Koutarou swear above him, and as soon as Keiji was relaxed enough, felt him pull out. Keiji opened his eyes blarily as Koutarou dropped his hips on the bed and crawled up his body, grabbing the camcorder as he did so.

Oh right, the money shot. How Koutarou had the mind to remember, Keiji would never know.

His mouth was already lax and open when Koutarou settled over his chest, pointing the camera down as he quickly stroked himself off. Keiji looked dazedly into the camera and stuck out his tongue.

“Fuck, fuck.”

And then he closed his eyes as Koutarou came all over his face.  

He didn’t even manage to open his eyes before Koutarou grabbed his face, bending down to kiss and lick up the cum until he was taking Keiji’s lips in a sloppy, salty kiss.

“That was so. Fucking. Hot.” He said into Keiji’s mouth, kissing him some more. “You were incredible.”  

Keiji would have returned the sentiment, but he found himself shaking, unable to really focus. He was still very aware of the cameras filming them, prickling his skin. And now that everything was over, the intensity of it was too much.

“K-Koutarou,” he managed, tucking his face into his husband’s shoulder, “I need you to turn off the cameras now. P-please.”

“Oh!”

When Koutarou moved away, Keiji covered his face with his arms. He felt the bed dip up and down as Koutarou got off, listened to him shuffle around as he turned everything off. Then the bed dipped again and he felt Koutarou’s warmth and weight settle on top of him again.

“They’re all off, baby.”

Keiji expelled the breath he’d been holding, and his muscles slowly started to relax. He let his arms drop away, cringing at the feeling of dry sticky cum on his skin.

“Here,” Koutarou said, placing something damp on Keiji’s face. “I grabbed the cloth from the bedside table.

He wiped Keiji’s face and arms clean, then tossed the cloth away. Keiji opened his eyes and saw Koutarou grinning down at him.

“We just made a sex tape.”

“We did.”

“That is so filthy.”

“You ended up being quite the natural, though.”

Keiji smiled as Koutarou threw his back and laughed, dropping down to lay beside him.

“Maybe I should get into the porn business for real!”

“Hmm,” Keiji turned onto his side, throwing an arm over Koutarou’s chest. “I think I’d rather keep your talent to myself.”

Koutarou brushed their noses together with a hum.

“And of course Chikara-san, as he will be the one–”

“KEIJI!!!”

  


Later that night, as Keiji uploaded the files onto his laptop – heavily encrypting them – Koutarou sat behind him on the couch, arms wrapped around his middle and chin tucked into his shoulder.

“So, when are you gonna put it together?”

“Soon, when I have time.”

“When do we get to watch it?”

“In a few weeks.”

“A few weeks!?!” Koutarou squawked right in Keiji’s ear. “Whyyyyy?”

“We should give it some time so that it’s not so fresh in our minds. Especially me, since I’m editing it.”

“I guess that makes sense,” Koutarou pouted. “Did you have a day in mind?”

Keiji tilted his head back so he could press his cheek into Koutarou’s. “Do you think you could get Valentine’s Day off?”  

The arms around him were suddenly like a vice.

“You fucking bet I can!”

**Author's Note:**

> okay, so. there is a chance i'll write about them watching the tape. but don't hold me to that. 
> 
> happy holidays all!
> 
> thank you silvercistern for your tireless support and proof-reading! (the ending was not read by anyone but myself while deliriously tired, so please be gentle)


End file.
